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Showing posts with label romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label romance. Show all posts

Friday, September 20, 2013

GRAND TOUR OF EUROPE: July 18 Crete, Santorini

Sunday July 18
As is often the way after an epic storm at sea, the dawn broke clear and hot, with not a trace of the electromagnetic violence through which our ship had just passed. We arrived at Crete after eating a nourishing breakfast on board. It was to be a long day sightseeing in relentless heat, so we really needed a good head start.

by kind courtesy of
At 8 am, we disembarked ship at the historic Heraklion harbour, which was first established during the 13th Century by wealthy Venetian merchant families seeking a sunny, warm winter escape.

From the harbour, we were bused to the nearby ancient palace city of Knossos.
by kind courtesy of 
My first impression of Knossis was its immense size which totals 10 sq. km, [3.9 square miles]. That's three times larger than New York's Central Park [1.3 square miles].
Above is an artist's rendition of the Palace as it was originally designed and built on top of a hill to maximize both the view and its security.

My second impression of Knossos was of the overwhelming heat there. Though not yet 9 am, the thermometer registered at 37 degrees Celsius. That's blood heat! And since the temperature climbed steadily all day, I was very glad that I'd worn my coolest cotton frock and sturdy sneakers.

This palace was an ancient holy site, which supplied for all the needs of those using it, including indoor plumbing and reliable access to fresh water. Its infrastructure has remained in tact for 5000 years, mainly because it was not designed for public use.
by kind courtesy of
With my ceaseless drive to touch, smell, psychically sense and photograph everything I saw in Knossos, I soon lost sight of our cruise ship's touring party. So I joined a touring German group instead.

Not that I spoke German, in this lifetime, but with the aid of the guide's hand gestures, I was able to glean quite a lot of information. But the German group moved on while I was busily investigating Knossos' indoor plumbing system, so amazed was I to discover that they really did have efficient plumbing 3000 years BC!

The next group to which I attached myself spoke only Japanese, but after a few minutes of trying to decipher meaning, I realized that even their hand gestures did nothing to clarify the information being imparted. So I left that group and searched for a secluded, shaded place in which to relax and meditate.

The place I found located was on a slight promontory so it must have, at one time, commanded an imposing view of the sea. In 1976, it was almost overgrown by olive trees, whose leafy boughs provided plenty of shade and privacy, both of which I desperately needed.

by kind courtesy of 
Meditating was as easy as breathing in that peaceful place, and I was quickly transported back in time to witness Knossos as it used to be.

In that altered state, I easily experienced synesthesia, the ability hear colours and see sounds. Thus my experience of the art and music still felt as fresh and relevant to me then, as it had once been 5000 years ago.

History of Knossos
Knossos was inhabited for several thousand years, beginning with a neolithic settlement sometime in the seventh millennium BC, and was abandoned after its destruction in 1375 BC which marked the end of Minoan civilization.
The first palace, on the low hill beside the Krairatos river was built around 1900 BC on the ruins of previous settlements. It was destroyed for the first time along with the other Protopalatial palaces around Crete at 1700 BC, probably by a large earthquake or foreign invaders. It was immediately rebuilt to an even more elaborate complex and until its abandonment was damaged several times during earthquakes, invasions, and in 1450 BC by the colossal volcanic eruption of Thera, and the invasion of Mycenaeans who used it as their capital as they ruled the island of Crete until 1375 BC.
above excerpt taken from http://www.ancient-greece.org/archaeology/knossos.html 
The palace of Knossos was undoubtedly the ceremonial and political centre of the Minoan civilization and culture. It appears as a maze of workrooms, living spaces and storerooms close to a central square. And approximate graphic view of some aspects of Cretan life in the Bronze Age is provided by restorations of the palace's indoor and outdoor murals, as it is also by the decorative motifs of the pottery and the insignia on the seals and sealings. 
The palace was abandoned at some unknown time at the end of the Late Bronze Age, ca. 1380–1100 BC.[7] The occasion is not known for certain, but one of the many disasters that befell the palace is generally put forward. The abandoning population were probably Mycenaean Greeks, who had earlier occupied the city-state, and were using Linear B as its administrative script, as opposed to Linear A, the previous administrative script. The hill was never again a settlement or civic site, although squatters may have used it for a time.
Except for periods of abandonment, other cities were founded in the immediate vicinity, such as the Roman colony, and a Hellenistic Greek precedent. The population shifted to the new town of Chandax (modern Heraklion) during the 9th century AD. By the 13th century, it was called Makruteikhos 'Long Wall'; the bishops of Gortyn continued to call themselves Bishops of Knossos until the 19th century.[8] Today, the name is used only for the archaeological site now situated in the expanding suburbs of Heraklion.
above excerpt taken from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Knossos
by kind courtesy of 
http://powerplaces.com/images/photo/crete_dolphins.jpg
There is more about the Knossos Palace at these links:
Our cruise passengers were fortunate enough to spend a good few hours in ancient palace of Knossos. Even though several groups toured at the same time, the place was so huge, one could easily find a place to be alone. So my next 'perfect' quiet meditation spot was more centrally located. Taking off my sneakers, I sat cross-legged between a giant sculpture of bull horns that represented might and power of the Minoan culture.
by kind courtesy of 


Modern day photos show that this sculpture has now been roped off to prevent further public access. But in 1976, I felt most privileged to take a precious 'time-out' to meditate literally upon this ancient artifact. From there, with eyes open, I could also view much of the central area of Knossos.

Too soon, it was time to leave Knossos and head back to Heraklion. But our time in Crete was not yet at an end. The buses next deposited us at Heraklion Archeological Museum, which houses the treasures of Knossos.

by kind courtesy of 
It is one of the greatest museums in Greece[1] and the best in the world for Minoan art, as it contains the most notable and complete collection of artifacts of the Minoan civilization of Crete 
It houses representative artifacts from all the periods of Cretan prehistory and history, covering a chronological span of over 5,500 years from the Neolithic period to Roman times. 
The singularly important Minoan collection contains unique examples of Minoan art, many of them true masterpieces. The Heraklion Museum is rightly considered as the museum of Minoan culture par excellence worldwide.

We were all exhausted when, after the museum, we finally returned for a late lunch aboard ship. Donna took a nap for the duration of the journey across the Cretan trough to Santorini. But I took advantage of our last afternoon aboard ship to swim and sunbathe on the pool deck.
by kind courtesy of 
Our ship could not anchor at Santorini because the waters were just too deep!
Santorini is essentially what remains after an enormous volcanic explosion that destroyed the earliest settlements on a formerly single island, and created the current geological caldera. A giant central, rectangular lagoon, which measures about 12 by 7 km (7.5 by 4.3 mi), is surrounded by 300 m (980 ft) high, steep cliffs on three sides. The main island slopes downward to the Aegean Sea. On the fourth side, the lagoon is separated from the sea by another much smaller island called Therasia; the lagoon is connected to the sea in two places, in the northwest and southwest. The depth of the caldera, at 400m, makes it possible for all but the largest ships to anchor anywhere in the protected bay; there is also a newly built marina at Vlychada, on the southwestern coast. The island's principal port is Athinias. The capital, Fira, clings to the top of the cliff looking down on the lagoon. The volcanic rocks present from the prior eruptions feature olivine and have a small presence of hornblende.[3]
Donkey Ride
Passengers leaving to explore the island were ferried to shore in small groups by a few motor launches. Once on terra firma, we were advised to climb the steep cliff via donkey. The alternative would have been using Shank's Pony.  

I loved the idea of taking a donkey ride up to the top, taking photos of the view along the way. Yet I'd inexplicably worn a light summer frock instead of more sensible shorts or jeans. So modesty demanded that I walk! 

But, after one glance at the sorry state of those stout, stone steps that the donkeys used - and regularly soiled - this young lady's modesty was quickly abandoned in the name of expediency. 
by kind courtesy of 

With consummate glee, I boarded that Cadillac of ancient conveyances, the donkey, and spent the journey trying to ignore the lecherous comments the view of my bronzed thighs elicited from delighted males.

Even though I didn't understand Greek, their intent was all too clear! So for the 12 minutes it took for our donkeys to ascend that cliff, I knew exactly what Donna had endured on our first morning in Athens. And I also knew that I'd have to go through it all over again on the way down.
by kind courtesy of 
The winding view up to the town of Fira was spectacular, gradually revealing the surrounding islands as well as our waiting cruise ship and the busy shuttle launches. 

What a wonderful treat this gentle introduction Santorini was, and must have been, even in Minoan times. Today, less able travellers have the option of ascending via cable car to the top

Pistachio Ice Cream
Duly deposited near the town of Fira, I looked for something to drink.

The streets were filled with tourists, so I looked to the advertisements for visual signs of impending relief. That's how I chose a triple decker ice cream cone to slake my thirst, instead of water!

I had never even seen pistachio ice cream before and so was first attracted by its minty green colour. The taste was out of this world, and the sheer quantity of the unexpected treat certainly cooled my body!  But I still needed water afterwards.

Eager to escape the crowds, I walked through the main street to the edge of town where I spied this fabulously romantic spot for a dinner for two, similar to the one shown, whilst searching for a drink of water!
Alas, the time passed too quickly and before I could venture further, it was time to return to the ship. Our last evening aboard awaited, a splendid celebration of life in food and spirits, yet it was bitter-sweet farewell to passengers we had befriended as well as to the islands of Greece.

Craving some alone time after a wondrously happy but noisy, plate-crashing supper, I walked to the stern of the boat to watch the setting of the hot Aegean sun. It felt and looked like all that a sunset should be, except that I seemed to be the only passenger on that huge vessel to witness it.

The wonder of a sunset
is in no way affected by
lack of onlookers 

Behind us the sun was also setting on Santorini, and I could only dream of being there. I knew in my heart that one day I would again visit this most romantic of islands, but next time in the company of someone I loved.
by kind courtesy of
What are you waiting for? 

Next Time
July 19 - 23
GREECE








Athens
Acropolis Hill - Parthenon - Fillopopous Monument - Sewer Cat

Peleponnese
Corinth - Nafplion -Sparta

GRAND TOUR OF EUROPE
July  19-21 Athens and The Peleponnese

Friday, May 10, 2013

GRAND TOUR OF EUROPE: June 27-29 Denmark

Sunday June 27 
COPENHAGEN
The day dawned clear, bright and warm.  By 9am, the temperature was already in the high 76 F (23C) so I chose to wear a sleeveless blue-printed cotton dress and my navy blue sling-backs. I knew I could walk in comfort all day in those medium-heeled shoes, if need be. And should I require a shade hat for my blue-black locks, I would purchase one at Tivoli. 

It was important, to me, that I looked good for my very first 'date' in Denmark. Teeth brushed, hair neat, no perfume, just gold ear studs, gold and blue filigree ring, and a thin gold and blue bangle as jewelery.  I carried very little in my purse: kleenex, a comb, lipstick, my EurRail pass, my doorkey for later plus  a few Danish krone for refreshments, or that sunhat. I felt light, bright and happy, anticipating a day of new adventures with a new friend. 

I breakfasted lightly, partly because the day's heat was already building, and partly because of the 'butterflies' in my stomach.
by kind courtesy of
Leaving Auntie Stine and Donna deliberating their Sunday schedule together, I caught the train to Copenhagen, eager to begin my day with Erik.  

He was standing on the station platform when I arrived, but would not tell me his plans.  He promised that my day would unfold like a flower eager for  Denmark's friendly sunshine. 

Who could resist such a promise?

Copenhagen is Northern Europe's cosiest capital, packed with cafes, shops and the best restaurant in Scandinavia. From the winding streets of the beautiful old town and grand royal palaces to the city's cutting-edge buildings and attractions, Copenhagen is the perfect blend of old world and new.

To start our day right, Erik treated me to a 
Canal tour of Copenhagen
by courtesy of 
Departing from Nyhavn, our guided tour, conducted in both Danish and English, took us around the harbour and through the idyllic canals, past Copenhagen's beuatiful churches, castles, old listed houses, new buildings and all the other sites of interest.

It warmed my heart to know that Erik had been listening carefully when I'd confessed a love of architecture and antiquities and had then chosen this particular tour specifically for me.  

After leaving the canal tour, we took a short walk to Langelinie Quay to see The Little Mermaid statue that was inspired by Hans Christian Andersen's story.
by kind courtesy of memoirofamermaid.com  
We also stopped near Langelinie Quay for a cooling drink and to collect refreshments for later, then explored Copenhagen's suburban S-train network. This train sysem connects the city centre with the suburbs of Copenhagen, and trains depart every 10 to 20 minute,  making it an easy and efficient choice when you need to cover distances.

Disembarking near a large shaded area, we chose an area under the comparative coolness of the tree canopy closer to the river bank. Many others had apparently had the very same idea that day since the park was filled with people.

Our picnic lunch was simple but filling. So we ate as we conversed, then lay back on the cool grass, watching glints of sunlight playing through the leaves, all the while still chatting.

The noon day temperature soared beyond expectations, and I found myself very grateful for Erik's sensible plan to spend a couple of hours there, quietly relaxing and talking, whilst learning more about each other's lives.  

Erik was a divorced man with one small daughter who now lived in Greece.  He was an engineer, who had been laid off from his job.  But in 1976, in Denmark, he was still able to accrue 95% of his pay through insurance.  This enabled him to maintain his home, his family, his dignity and even some of his whims. Danish labour laws must have worked well for him, because Erik was the most generous and laid-back laid-off person I'd ever met!

We were both very conscious of the preciousness of our sudden encounter. We were strangers, living  several thousand miles apart. So we knew that we would probably never meet again. And, though sad, knowing that our time together was limited, upgraded the intensity, quality and content of that afternoon's conversation for both of us.

Time simultaneously stretched and shrank, as both of our minds busily quested for more knowledge. Erik and I ferretted out details about each other's lives with vigour and purpose, as if we meant to hold them as memory treasures that would provide an emotional bulwark for dark days ahead.

In those rare moments of silence between us, I felt as if I were a fisherman's wife, waiting for the fleet to return home with their night's catch. It was an unexpected and poignant 'imagining' for so simple an afternoon's chat! But I didn't have time to ponder the ramifications of why it has arisen until much, much later.

Before leaving that riverbank, we had investigated topics ranging from architecture to astronomy, zoos to zahleas, electronics to extra-terrestrials. Everything and anything was open for discussion.
We had laughed joyfully with the innocence and spontaneity of best-friend 8-year olds in a playground. I could almost see us and hear echoes of us in that long-ago scenario - but the details were faint, as if viewed and heard through a fog. The experience, itself, arrived so unexpectedly that it was disorienting and left me feeling a bit dizzy.

About 5pm, our stomachs began to growl and the mercury had mercifully dipped below 25C.  So we returned to Tivoli via the S-train, where Erik treated me to a fantastic meal eaten outdoors on tables with white cloths and lit candles.
by kind courtesy of 
The Danes are famous for the 'hygge' - a perfect concept for a romantic dinner, creating atmosphere by lighting some candles and making sure you are comfortable.
excerpt taken from 
Erik was attentive and considerate through our relaxed and romantic supper completed with a bottle of Niersteiner. But the endless Scandinavian summer sunset soon beckoned us both to the water, and more specifically Amager Beach.

You don't have to look far for great beaches in Denmark as the Danish coastline itself is a long sandy beach. However, there are some popular beaches in certain areas of Denmark that simply overshadow all others, with their superb water quality, safety and facilities.
excerpt taken from
http://goscandinavia.about.com/od/thingstodo/tp/scandinavianbeaches.htm

We strolled along Amager Strandpark, the beach right outside Copenhagen, that is easily reached and today has a view across the Oresund Sound to Sweden. When we were there, the bridge had yet to be built.

After a scorching 32C (95F) day, we treated our over-heated bodies to a leisurely swim in Amager's surprisingly cool waters.

This beach had soft white sand with tufts of grass growing out of it, in low dunes, separating swimming from walking areas. This made Amager a very private area in which to relax, especially at night. Having no swimsuit, I stripped down to my undies, while Erik un-selfconsciously ran into the water butt naked.

Having cooled down our bodies, we returned to beach to let the off-shore breezes dry us while we searched for the evening's first stars and listened to Abba singing "Fernando" on Erik's transistor radio. Bliss! Then, all too soon, the sky darkened slightly and our day ended. I was a sad moment, when Erik escorted me to the station to again catch the last train of the day back to Helsingor.

Monday June 28 
JULEBEK BEACH
Another scorching Scandinavian summer's day dawned hot and clear. I breakfasted with Donna and-Auntie Stine, for the last time.  Then Erik phoned, asking me to bring my backpack and meet him at Helsingør station. How intriguing! I'd thought we'd already said our goodbyes the previous evening. But Erik, apparently, had other plans for us.

So Donna and I both left, with our backpacks bound for the lockers at Helsingør station. She and Auntie Stine would stay in town, as Donna wanted to buy souvenirs there. Later that afternoon, Donna and I were scheduled to leave Denmark for Paris by the overnight train.

Erik greeted Auntie Stine and Donna politely, and assured them both that he'd get me to the Paris train on time. Then whisked me away to another train for a short journey to Julebek Beach, about 4km west of Helsingør.

In 1976, the local train dropped you off near a small beech tree forest, that separted the beach from the tracks. One had to hike about 200 yards to the beach itself. The area has since grown, and the forest has, no doubt, matured. But Julebek remains a pretty, sandy beach that faces north-east, across Oresund towards Sweden.

Despite Erik's stellar human companionship, the sand flies and biting mosquitoes shortened the length of time we had intended to stay at this beach. Those insects had flustered us so much, that we accidentally caught the train going in the opposite direction from Helsingør. By the time we discovered and rectified our mistake, we both knew I would not be on time for my connection to Copenhagen for the Paris train.

Before returning to Helsingør, I phoned Auntie Stine's home to apologize for worrying her and also to let Donna know about my change of plans. Donna was most unwilling to do so, but I urged her to catch the Paris train without me, that very evening. I promised to meet her at Paris Nord station, 24-hours after she, herself would arrive there. Surely she could manage one single day without me!?

Somehow, the Norse gods had 
arranged that Erik and I should 
enjoy one final glorious evening together

I was not about to refuse their gift.

Erik then spoke to Auntie Stine in Danish, convincing her that - next evening - he would make sure I made the Paris train. By the look on his face, I am certain Auntie Stine had some strong words for him!

Temporarily released from all our obligations, Erik and I retrieved my backpack, then headed inland to Hillerød where we booked into two rooms in a bed and breakfast on the edge of town.  By then it was late afternoon, but not yet time for supper.

Erik led me to the lake, where we enjoyed a magical boat ride, in a swan-shaped boat, to see the exterior of Fredericksborg Castle. Built as a royal residence for King Christian IV, this castle is now a museum of national history. The current edifice replaced a previous castle erected by Frederick II and is the largest Renaissance palace in Scandinavia. The palace is located on three small islands in the middle of Palace Lake (Slotsøen) and is adjoined by a large formal garden in the Baroque style.

by kind courtesy of 
After the romantic boat ride, Erik and I strolled arm in arm, in the direction of our B&B, enjoying a delightful supper in a secluded bistro along the way.  

Upon arriving at the B&B, we entered the garden, where we chatted till just before midnight. Then, hungry again, we walked a few blocks to find a a local inn where we gorged on midnight smor brod and beer.  
Tuesday June 29 HILLERøD 
After breakfast, we vacated our lodgings then Erik escorted me around Fredericksborg Castle with the finesse of a tour guide.  

He presented each grand room, as if it were his very own, giving me a potted history of its main events and characters. Even though English was a foreign language to him, Erik's words and explanations made our 'private' tour come alive for me. But the highlight of the visit happened when Erik asked me to close my eyes, then led me to the entrance of the grand room, where I re-opened them.

Before me was an enormous room, with groined vaulting, carved chests and cabinets. The Knight's Hall was a grand hall decorated by large portraits of Christian IX and other Danish kings, and lit by tall windows. It had originally been designed as a Ballroom, above the castle church.  But to my eye, it still looked more like a ballroom.
With a dramatic, flourishing bow, Erik asked me to dance with him. I curtsied my reply whereupon he led me onto the floor beneath that magnificent ceiling with its enormous crystal chandeliers.

Then, unexpectedly, he hummed a Mozart melody as we floated together - quite alone - over those intricately inlaid floor. His eyes never left mine for a moment, and I knew that we were each creating a memory here that would last us a lifetime (Mine certainly has!)

Too soon, we had to make our way back to Copenhagen, via Helsingor. Though I was in good time for the Paris train, there were no more couchettes available for rent. I did not relish having to endure the 19-hour ride sitting upright for the entire journey. But at least I had a seat!

Erik insisted on accompanying me onto the train and finding me an empty compartment. Not wanting me to wait there alone, he made sure my back pack was safely stowed, but only after I'd relieved it of my towel, bath bag and essential overnight gear. Then we sat holding hands together, in comfortable silence, looking out at the skyline of Copenhagen till the guards announced the train's imminent departure.

He stood on the station platform, waving goodbye for the entire time it took my train to completely navigate the long, slow 90-degree bend out of Copenhagen station. It was such a sweet gesture that I finally broke down sobbing, knowing that Erik had been my own courtly knight who had gone to amazing lengths to give me the most romantic and interesting weekend of my life.

Tusind tak for en fantastisk weekend, Erik. 
Jeg vil aldrig glemme dig!

NEXT WEEK!
June 30 - July 1
FRANCE
Train journey to Paris
Donna's Meltdown

Luxembourg Gardens Pension
Bus Tour

Paris by night

Bateau Mouche 
Midnight dining

Friday, April 12, 2013

GRAND TOUR OF EUROPE: June 21 Sweden's Lappland (770 miles)


Monday June 21, 1976: 

 I dreamt that I needed to phone to check which of Stockholm's two domestic airports we needed that day. And it was just as well I did, or we would have chosen the wrong airport and missed our flight to Kiruna.

A few hours later, our SAS flight north left Stockholm via Arlanda Airport and we ate lunch at 25,000 feet. Kiruna is located within the Arctic Circle, about 770 miles (1240 km) north of Stockholm.
map photo by kind courtesy of steelguru.com
photo by kind courtesy of www.docstoc.com 
We arrived at our windy northern destination to discover that Kiruna airport had only one taxi available in which to chauffeur visitors into town and to their hotels. So Donna and I joined Bo and Hans whom we had met on the flight.

It was a short, but friendly, ride to town, squished together in that taxi. So much so that, by the time we reached Hotel Ferrum, both men had invited us for supper that evening.  


HOTEL FERRUM, KIRUNA, SVERIGE
Our pre-booked room was spacious and airy and had a magnificent view of the mountain and mine. Donna and I changed into jeans and then enjoyed an escorted trip to the town's Iron Ore Mine - the largest deposit of Iron Ore on the planet world.
photo by kind courtesy of www.kirunashotell.se -
The excavation of Kiruna's iron ore is a gigantic engineering feat that, sadly, involves the gradual levelling of the the town's mountain.  Our tour took us underground, where we wore hard hats and saw a drill, the size of a house, in operation. It was very impressive but also extremely noisy!
photo by kind courtesy of barentsobserver.com

Nature does not quietly 
surrender her mineral bounty

After taking photos of people beside the 8ft. diameter wheels on those huge mining machines, I walked around Kiruna, and breathed in the crisp, cool, clear air that was blowing in from the west. Then, I returned to the Ferrum for a bastu - which is what the Swedes call a sauna.
photo by kind courtesy of www.tumblr.com
The hotel's unisex bastu was deserted. Located on the top floor, it was the first one I had ever seen that had a window in it - with a view of the mountain.

The solstice sun's long flirtation with the horizon, on this longest day of the northern year, made it very easy to lose track of time.

I had travelled a thousand miles already, learning new customs, language basics and currencies along the way. While I welcomed the challenge, there was still far to go, and we had not scheduled much time for relaxation. So I happily surrendered to the restorative dry heat of that deliciously silent bastu. After all the hustle and bustle, being there alone was exactly what my soul had needed.

After returning to my room, I had a quick shower and remained in my towel, allowing my body to cool down naturally whilst folding my now dry lingerie.

So, when Hans opened the door without knocking, and then let himself in, I shrieked in surprise.

The poor man looked as shocked to see me as I was to see him. He immediately turned his back and explained that he just wanted me to have what was in his hand. Keeping my composure, I put on my hotel robe, then bid Hans turn around and show me what it was he had in his hand!
photo by kind courtesy of http://fleursflorist.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2013/02/Rose_and_Freesia_Handtied-300x200.jpg
He had brought Donna and me a fragrant vase of pink miniature roses with some fragrant freesia.  What a sweet welcome to Lappland!

I was sincerely moved by his flower gift, and thanked him, assuring him that we were both looking forward to having supper with him.

Hans then left, but returned a few minutes later to inform us that Bo had to work and was thus unable to accompany us to dinner that night. By way of an apology for breaking the date, he had sent a bottle of wine, which Hans quickly opened.

He poured 3 glasses, then we all toasted to Bo's health and our upcoming evening with Hans before ushering him out of our room so that we could get finish getting ready for dinner!

Donna and I also needed time to recover from the distinct pleasure of receiving both flowers AND wine from two complete strangers!  We simply had not expected to be treated like royalty in Kiruna. Who knew that Swedes were so romantic?!  Maybe it's their hot Viking blood?!

Our vase of pink roses had alerted me that Donna's 
and my stay in Kiruna was sure to be a lot more 
meaningful than either of us could have anticipated.

The dining room at the Ferrum Hotel looked like an IKEA store on steroids. It could have comfortably seated several dozen people. And the magnificent floor to ceiling windows faced the town's raison d'être, its mountain and mine.

The furniture was ultra-stylish, reasonably comfortable and very Swedish. There was even a small dance floor with a surprisingly accomplished dance band playing that night.  

Hans welcomed Donna and me, pulling both of our chairs out for us.  This simple act of courtesy instantly alerted every male there to the fact that at least one of us was potentially available!
photo by kind courtesy of http://whynotbook.com/hotels/view/Scandic-Ferrum-Hotel-Kiruna-Sweden-56388
We ordered our meal, and sipped the wine that Hans provided for the table. His manners were impeccable, as one would expect from a Swede.

But around us, things were rapidly becoming quite bizarre! A couple of dozen men had quietly occupied the tables around us.  And, when they thought we were not looking, were quite openly leering at Donna and me.

It was obvious that the news of our arrival 
had reached the ears of every man in town 
since all the iron-men were seated all around us.

I'd half-finished my glass of wine, when a smiling stranger approached our table and politely asked Hans if he might dance with me!  Hans wisely deferred to my judgement.  And seeing no harm in dancing,  I smiled and rose to my feet.  

We chatted as the stranger guided me across the floor.  He spoke perfect English and, of course, wanted to know why we two ladies were in Kiruna. I explained that I was a university student in Canada and so had wanted to see, with my own eyes, the planet's largest operational iron ore mine.

At the end of our dance, my partner thanked me and returned me to my table and Hans. Donna had also accepted a dance, so poor Hans had been sitting there patiently watching us while awaiting our food orders. He seemed genuinely content with his role as our chaperone.

Hans further explained that for us to refuse to dance, would be considered bad-mannered as all the men were there only because we two young single women were dining there that night!
He spoke the truth! No sooner had Donna and I taken our seats and a quick sip of wine than we received more dance requests. Subsequent invitations followed, as quickly as we were deemed sufficiently refreshed to dance.

Thankfully most of my partners spoke English. Being able to converse with them took my mind off the pain of having my toes - and shoes - so cruelly crushed!

Without realizing it, Donna and I had injected ourselves into 'testosterone-ville'!!  Like most mining towns in the 1970s, Kiruna was comprised primarily of young, strong, healthy males, many of whom regularly spent months at a time separated from their wives and/or families.

We scarcely had time to eat, much less digest our meals. Each man took turns at respectfully approaching our table to ask one or other of us to dance. Some men were flirtatious, others painfully shy and some just hungry for the scent of a woman.  Yet all of our partners behaved like perfect gentlemen. Unfortunately, most of them danced like engineers with two left feet!

That night of dancing brought me face to face - quite literally - with the intense loneliness that is often experienced by those who work in geographically isolated locations. Most of these men staunchly deny the depths of their loneliness, which is another noble act of sacrifice for their family. Thus their pain and selflessness often goes unnoticed and under-appreciated.
I saw varying degrees of loneliness in the eyes of my dance partners that night. And I gasped to suddenly realize the toll it takes on a person's psyche to spend a lifetime away from their loved ones - especially when it is for the sake of providing for those very same loved ones. 
What a cruel, lonely fate! 


We need to honour those men and women 
who quietly labour, in emotionally barren conditions, to provide for loved ones

Somewhere between our entree and dessert, as I was pondering the psychological effects of loneliness on the human body, Kurt asked me to dance. I dutifully followed him to the floor, expecting the worst, but was delighted to discover he really could dance the foxtrot!

Both my parents had been keen ballroom dancers, so I had grown up dancing on my Daddy's feet.  Dancing with Kurt reminded me of the way it had felt to dance with my now deceased Father. And I enjoyed it so much that, custom or not, I refused to dance with any other partner for the remainder of that night.

Hans was very good natured about Donna's and my popularity with the other males, thanking us for sharing dinner was him then bidding us both a genteel goodnight when it was over.

Kurt then invited both Donna and me outside to witness the midnight sun for ourselves.  After an evening of dancing, we wisely decided against climbing the mountain in our dresses and heels. Instead, we traded a slightly improved solar view, for the opportunity to chat quietly with this knowledgeable man, whilst slowly walking around this now deserted town. Everyone, except us, seemed to be asleep!

My mind rebelled against the sky's being so bright at 11.30 at night. Though the sun was dipping downwards to almost touch the horizon, tonight there would be no sunset at all.
photo by kind courtesy of tripwow.tripadvisor.com

The 24-hour bright sky, following days of non-stop activity, played havoc with all of my senses. How does one get their bearings, when the sun never sets?

Even though I'd helped to consume a few of bottles of wine with and after dinner, I was not in the least bit drunk or sleepy. All that dancing must have exercised the alcohol right out of my system!  Donna, on the other hand, was quite weary and so returned to our room.

I chose to spend the rest of that awesome night with Kurt.

In public, being with Kurt had felt more like a one-on-one tutorial than romance! As a Geological Engineer, he was eager to explain all the intracacies of iron ore mining in Kiruna. And since I was already a 3rd year geology student, ours was an intellectual match made in tectonic heaven!

But Kurt was also a fit, handsome, and very sexy, divorced, 34-year old Viking man. And I was a fit, divorced, emancipated 27-year old Canadian woman.  We knew we had only a few hours to share before I would forever leave Kiruna. So, we did not waste time in being shy!

Though short and sweet, our time together was so compelling that, upon my return to Canada, Kurt and I remained friends and communicated, via snail mail, for many years.

I had spent less than 48 hours in Sweden,but was 
already in love with this country and her people!
Tack för den varmt välkomnande, Kiruna, 
och för de underbara minnen
by kind courtesy of jenlemen.com 
My crazy adventures in Sweden had only just begun. 
for the very best was yet to be!


NEXT WEEK!
June 22-23 
Sweden
LULEA, Lappland
Norbotten Museum
Coastal Lappland

STOCKHOLM
Harbour Cruise
The Vasa Warship
Waldemarssude in Djurgarden
Painter Prince Museum

GRAND TOUR OF EUROPE - June 22-23 SWEDEN North to South to NORWAY